Fire In Your Eyes
by Caillieach
Summary: A very close call leaves Luche shaken and causes his control to slip increasingly. The Empire's relentless advance isn't helping. Stranded in Duscae after a hard battle, Luche is struggling to fulfill his duties as the Glaives 2nd in command and as if that wasn't already enough, Tredd reveals a talent no one knew he had (and displays a blatant misuse of the Armiger along the way).


**Author's Notes:**

This began out of a very strong need of seeing Tredd with a guitar. It was meant to go very differently but Tredd disagreed with where I was taking this, and the direction changed. A lot. Much to Luche's chargrin.

Much thanks to the wonderful MeinNameIstJette for partly beta'ing this monster and TinyHannah and September_Rain for putting up with my whining and screaming about this. I love you guys.

That being said, enjoy. Feedback is as always much appreciated. ❤

**Disclaimer:**

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners, here: Square Enix. Any possible future original characters & plots are my own. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended. I do not earn money with this.

Luche sighed and absentmindedly raked his fingers through his hair as he observed the campsite being set up around him. He felt off-kilter, restless and flashes from earlier that day kept distracting him, adding to the stress making the muscles in his neck tense painfully.

They had been deployed far into Duscae this time, too far to make it back to Insomnia before nightfall. It wasn't that they couldn't deal with the demons popping up all over the countryside at night because Luche knew they definitely could…but they were all exhausted, dead on their feet.

The last battle had been long and difficult and although they had managed to eventually drive the Nif forces back, it had been a hard-won victory – but it didn't feel like one. Not with four of their comrades lying pale and unmoving in one of the trucks. Luche winced. That image would probably haunt him in his dreams as they usually did.

They had all noticed how the battles became harder and increasingly pushed them closer to their breaking point lately. It didn't bode well for the war effort and Luche felt the increasing pressure on them keenly. Keeping his people save had always been hard, but now? He shook his head to discard the thought. He didn't have time for this right now. The general mood at camp was dark and rather glum, hanging almost tangible over their heads. The Captain had opted to set up camp rather than continue on back to the city. They had already lost four too many of their numbers that day, he wasn't going to risk the remaining Glaives if he could help it.

Luche couldn't say he minded terribly. He was rather tired himself and his shoulder and ribs hurt from where he had landed hard on them when he took an Ahriman down during battle. Slowly making his way through the camp, he scowled unhappily at the memory. He'd lost his kukri to the beast's corpse, stuck in its hard chitinous exoskeleton, before he could wrench it back and ended up having to take the fall. Not one of his finer moments. It had very nearly been fatal, too, when another Ahriman chose his moment of weakness to nearly skewer him before he managed to free himself. Grimacing, he clasped his injured shoulder and rolled it gingerly. He'd need a potion for that. And something for his still jittery nerves, if he could find something. Sighing, he pulled his sleeping bag out of the Armiger and joined Nyx who had already finished setting his own up, quietly grumbling about the hard, rocky ground of the haven they had found by chance half an hour ago.

"You good?"

Nyx spoke before he looked up at him, his sharp eyes visibly scanning him for any obvious injuries.

"Mostly, yeah. Hurt my shoulder a bit and my ribs hurt but it's nothing a potion can't fix." Luche muttered in passing as he pulled his sleeping bag out of the Armiger, unwilling to admit how much his injuries were really bothering him. Frowning, he realised that his well-worn sleeping bag had grown thin and wouldn't cushion much against the cold, hard ground. Well, so much for a comfortable bed for the night. He looked up and over his shoulder at the sound of pebbles being crushed beneath feet approaching him from behind and another sleeping bag was rolled out next to his just a moment later.

"I have half a potion left. Lose the jacket and I'll put it on your shoulder."

Tredd.

The redhead smoothed his sleeping bag out in a futile attempt to make it look a little more inviting but gave up all too soon. Instead, he glanced questioningly up at him when he failed to respond in time.

"Or would you prefer to wait until our resident Dr. Frankenstein gets his hands on you at HQ?"

Luche scoffed. As if. His plan included a few potions, an elixir if he could get his hands on one, and one or three drinks back at home to help him drown out the faces of their dead so he could hopefully get some sleep before the nightmares would inevitably wake him up again. He didn't plan to deal with their medic at all.

"No, thank you, seeing him again before my eventual unfortunate demise would be way too soon."

Getting a potion from Tredd, though...yes, Luche thought, that didn't sound half bad. Following Tredd's advice, he busied himself with unbuttoning his jacket, but his usually nimble fingers refused to work, still shaking from the adrenaline and the shock of nearly dying. Honestly, who thought it a good idea to design a uniform with so many buttons? Frustrated with the uniform and the unknown designer responsible for the design as well as his own shaking hands, he shrugged out of his jacket a little too impatient. He hissed in pain when his left arm screamed bloody murder at him as he tried to pull the shirt over his head, half stuck in it.

"Here, let me."

He startled when a warm and calloused hand gently took his arm and another slid under his shirt, helping him with getting his arm free and the shirt off. His skin tingled where Tredd's hand had brushed it and his skin felt hot in the cool evening air where the warmth of his touches stubbornly lingered. It was novel and jarring and Luche felt mortified at the feeling of heat rising in his cheeks. He desperately hoped that he wasn't blushing and kept his head low until he felt more in control again.

"Six, half your back is black and blue, Luche. That beast got you good."

Yes, well, tell me something I didn't already know.

"Hold still, I don't want to just smash the potion on it when your back already looks like this."

Luche hummed non committedly and turned his head a bit, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the redhead standing behind him.

Tredd placed a warm hand on his good shoulder and tipped the bottle. He shuddered at the first cool drop on his bad shoulder and sighed in relief as strong, big hands began to carefully massage the potion into his abused skin and the muscles lying underneath, spreading the cooling gel on his back and ribs and allowing the potion to work its magic. Tredd's hand curled carefully around his torso so as to not put more pressure on the black and blue bruises decorating his skin and Luche felt a rush of gratitude for the redhead. Not only was the potion providing noticeable relief, but those strong hands were strangely soothing, grounding him in reality and dispelling the cold feeling his near-death experience had left behind and which had sat in the back of his head ever since the battle faded, leaving him tense and unsettled.

"There, as good as new. Just don't strain it until tomorrow morning and it will be fine."

A final, gentle squeeze and Luche felt Tredd's hand drop in a sort of caress from his good shoulder, leaving him acutely aware of the now missing warmth there.

"Thanks, Tredd."

Much more relaxed now that the pain had lessened and he wasn't trying to hold himself still at all cost anymore, Luche made to grab his discarded shirt when another hand thrust a bundle of fabric in front of his face. Reflexively, he took hold of the bundle and shot a questioning look at the perpetrator. Nyx. Of course.

"Wear this instead, it's easier to get into with that bummed shoulder and ribs of yours."

Their resident hero smiled at him. Unfolding what Nyx had given him, he recognized it as one of the man's insanely soft and legendary comfortable zip up hoodies he usually guarded so jealously.

"Thanks, Nyx."

He gave the man a tiny, grateful smile. As much as Nyx tried to come off as unflappable and 'cool' all the time, he really was a big softy, always looking out for his people. It was one of the things Luche appreciated about the man although he'd never say as much.

"No problem, I've been there before, I know it sucks."

Nyx clasped his good shoulder for a moment and smiled crookedly at him before he wandered off in the direction of Libertus. Luche noticed approvingly that he had already set his own bed for the night up and started preparing dinner. Already, the smell of cooking meat began to spread throughout the camp, rousing the weary spirits of his comrades. He himself didn't have much appetite but the delicious smell didn't leave him unaffected either.

Taking a look around, he carefully shrugged into the zip up hoodie and sighed appreciatively at its softness. Nyx really knew what felt good on potion-sensitive skin. Straightening up, he shoved the image of his four lost Glaives and the lingering unease from his own close call to the back of his mind. He had duties that needed to be seen to. No time to wallow in his grief and the persistent feeling of failure, of inadequacy. Luche gritted his teeth and turned slowly on his axis, surveying the makeshift camp. He allowed himself a tiny satisfied smile at what he saw. The situation was far from perfect but despite all that, his Glaives were already finished with parking the trucks in a circle around the haven. It wasn't much but it would serve as extra protection against the demons at night, at least. They had finished unloading all they would need already, too. Good. One less thing he needed to see to, then.

He chanced a glance at Tredd again who had sat down and busied himself with cleaning his kukris while he had been distracted. Not in the mood to do much of anything but acutely aware of his responsibilities, Luche sighed and went to check in with the Captain before he'd make his customary round to check on all the injured Glaives.

"Whoever came up with storing food in the Armiger deserves a prize."

Luche didn't bother to hide his mirth at the fervour in Pelna's voice. The younger Glaive seemed so genuinely happy with his meal and so determined to point out the positive things to everyone else that he felt some of the lingering tension leaking out of him, allowing his shoulders to relax slightly. Even the normally so stoic Captain's lips twitched up into a small smile, unable to keep his blank expression faced with Pelna's natural friendly aura.

"Well, where's my price then, Pels?" Crowe cheekily inquired. "Chop chop, I'm waiting." The brunette had draped herself half over Libertus, increasingly dragging him into her nest of blankets, not so secretly enjoying the reassuring closeness of her self-proclaimed big brother. Luche knew her well enough to know that she was playing along for their sake but her smug expression, revealing that she was evidently rather self-satisfied with herself for her idea, belied her.

"You'll have to wait until we're back in Insomnia, I'm afraid."

Pelna shrugged apologetically.

Crowe's protest of "What? No!" was drowned out by Nyx' jokingly scandalised "One does not keep a Lady waiting, Pels!" who good-naturedly rolled his eyes at the Galahdian.

"I don't see a Lady here, though." Sonitus piped up and shot a small but impudent grin at Crowe…and quickly ducked behind Axis when Crowe promptly threw a bit of potato in fake outrage at him.

Huffing a laugh under his breath, Luche winced as his ribs let him know what exactly they thought of that. One would think that he had learned to be mindful of his injuries in over 10 years at the front. He really ought to remember that. Next to him, he heard Axis chuckle quietly under his breath. Shooting the man a sideways look, they fondly rolled their eyes at their comrades' antics and shared a smile. As miserable as the day's events had left them feeling, it was hard to not get sucked into their groups gravitas of caring for each other. Luche adjusted his seat on the ground and let his eyes roam over the Glaives. He knew what the others were doing.

Their tight-knit group of experienced Glaives was doing their best to project an air of normality for the rest of them. Losing comrades was never easy and left all of them shaken to the core. But they had been fighting in this war for years and as horrible as it sounded, they had grown used to death dogging their every moment, awake and asleep, and had enough experience to not let it get to them until they were safely back home where they could fall apart in private.

However, the same could not be said about their newer comrades in arms, Luche thought as he observed their greenhorns in various states of gloominess. For some of them, this had been their first mission beyond the wall and their first brush with the Empire's crippling might. It was easy to read their fear and uncertainty on their faces for him. Furrowing his brow and glancing at Drautos across the merrily crackling fire in their midst, Luche mused that they should probably do something about that for the sake of keeping the Glaives functional. At least until they were safely back behind Insomnia's walls.

But what?

Blue sparks in the slowly darkening light directly across from him caught his attention. And he stared. And stared.

Dimly, Luche was aware that he was staring, but he couldn't exactly do something about it. His whole body felt frozen in surprise. Because opposite him sat Tredd, casually reclined against an ice box…with an acoustic guitar in his lap.

An acoustic guitar.

Tredd.

Luche had trouble to wrap his head around what he was seeing. A part of him marvelled at the blatant misuse of the Armiger Tredd had just displayed because he was most definitely sure that they weren't supposed to store other stuff than their weapons and gear in it. Hell, even their storing of other food than the mandatory ration bars was not exactly sanctioned, and he vividly remembered Lord Amicitia's last lecture about the same topic during his last inspection of the Glaive. Another part of him was absolutely stunned in his surprise because the redhead's actions were not only unexpected but unprecedented; he was fascinated by the apparent ease with which Tredd held the guitar.

The surprised and excited exclamations of his fellow Glaives finally managed to startle him out of the stupor he had fallen into and he blinked. Perhaps he had fallen asleep momentarily, the exhaustion getting the best of him? But no, that was still Tredd holding an old, obviously worn acoustic guitar in his arms. The redhead was studiously ignoring everyone around him, busying himself with tuning the instrument before he looked up and flashed an impish grin at them.

"Damn, Tredd, you know how to play?!"

In his excitement, Nyx was leaning halfway over the Captain who didn't seem to appreciate a face full of scruffy Galahdian. He laid a heavy hand on the man's shoulder and unceremoniously pushed him back into his seat. Luche felt his lips twitch as he was once again reminded why Drautos had dubbed his mentee 'his most annoying troublemaker' in the privacy of his office on more than one occasion although it was as clear as day to see for everyone who knew Drautos that he was very fond of his young protégé.

"Behave, Ulric, or kindly plant yourself in another seat." The Captain turned his head back to Tredd and added "I didn't know you play, Furia." Luche was surprised to detect what he thought to be a pleasantly surprised undertone swinging in the man's voice. Did that mean Drautos was partial to music?

Tredd cleared his throat.

"Not many do, Cap. I didn't exactly plan to flaunt it in front of everyone but…" and here Luche mentally prepared for one of his fellow Glaive's trademark lines, "…the newbies are looking a little green around the gills so I thought a lullaby might help them sleep", and he wasn't disappointed. Granted, the cheerfulness in the younger man's voice was, at least to him, clearly put on but-

Tredd let out an amused laugh at the offended squawks of their so teased newbies and Luche couldn't help but join him. Their faces admittedly were hilarious, he quietly thought to himself. And the friendly ribbing had done its job; their newbies did look more alert. Not as caught in their own heads as before. Already, the rather gloomy atmosphere hanging over the Glaive camp was beginning to feel a little lighter. It was working and not for the first time, Luche marvelled at the redhead's ability to lighten the mood with just a few well-placed words.

"Right, be quiet, everyone!" Tredd deliberately ignored the "Hey's!" and "Shut up, Tredd's!" and lightly ran his fingers over the strings, eliciting soft, melodious tones. "Now, if you'd all kindly shut up, I might sing a song or two for you."

…sing…?

Luche didn't have time to think too much about that particular revelation – because since when could Tredd sing?! – the first tones of a well-known, well-loved song amongst soldiers rang out into the crisp air.

"Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you; By now you should've somehow realized what you gotta do~I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now…"

Distantly, Luche realised that he was staring again. But Tredd's rich, deep voice wrapped itself deliciously around the lyrics, around him, and he felt the skin on his arms pebble again at the velvety caress. Who would have thought that he had such a nice singing voice? Usually always concerned with how he presented himself outside his own home, he was surprised that he honestly didn't give a rat's ass about how he sat there, completely entranced, as across the fire, Tredd's fingers caressed his guitar's strings, the muscles of his forearms moving deliciously beneath tanned skin, drawing his eyes...the fine reddish hairs glinted in the fading light of the day, accentuated by the fire's glow and for the first time, Luche found himself wishing he had Pelna's much loved camera at hand to capture the moment.

The tones Tredd was coaxing from his guitar were weaving a melody around them all, almost as if he possessed some of his ancestors' magical power the ancient denizens of Solheim had been so revered for and was weaving a spell designed to banish all dark thoughts. Going by his comrade's reaction, he was successful in his endeavour. Luche shared a glance with Drautos across the fire, receiving a nod in affirmation. Tredd's impromptu decision to regale them with a campfire concert as a distraction was working nicely. For the moment, they could sit back and enjoy it, too.

Without consciously thinking about it, his gaze returned to the redhead and wandered higher until it landed on the full lips shaping the words that resonated in his very bones. Unconsciously, Luche licked his suddenly dry lips.

"And all the roads that lead you there are winding and all the lights that light the way are blinding…"

If asked, Luche would have said that what was truly blinding was the way the fire glinted on Tredd's eyelashes and the way the flames were reflected in the redhead's usually hazel eyes, painting them a soft, molten gold.

Golden eyes which suddenly looked up and locked onto his own, holding his gaze with an intensity Luche hadn't expected. Rather abruptly, he felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't tear his eyes away. Not one to give in easily, he found himself holding their connection, not willing to be the first to look away. Where he had been slightly chilly before, he felt increasingly hot. Cursing his own fair complexion, Luche shot a quick prayer to his patron god. Ramuh, don't let me blush right now.

If asked, he'd blame the heat emanating from the fire without a second thought but deep down he knew that the heat came from within, radiating out from that delicious spark Tredd's gaze had somehow ignited in his core. Still very much focused on the redhead, he didn't miss the subtle, or not so subtle, twitch of Tredd's lips. He briefly looked up again from his guitar and sent him an intense, smouldering look. Luche's breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry, the hairs on his arms rising up. Where did that come from?

"There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how…"

Rattled by the intensity in Tredd's eyes, Luche swallowed heavily. What the hell is happening to me? Since when did Tredd have that effect on him?

He never had before…or had he?

Uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts were taking, Luche resolutely shoved them to the back of his mind and resolved to get through this, somehow. He didn't have time to ponder the meaning of this right now. Although things had calmed down a little, the music doing wonders in soothing their frazzled nerves, he still had to stay vigilant, keeping an eye on everyone. He did enjoy the show the younger man was putting on – if a little too much for his peace of mind – but his duty came first. Always. At the very least, Tredd's skill with a guitar and his unforeseen musical talent were a revelation and Luche resolved to appreciate it accordingly for as long as it went on or until something else commanded his attention.

Leaning against the blessedly cool van, Luche took a deep breath in an effort to centre himself again.

Night had fallen at last, cloaking their camp in darkness only interrupted by the haven's blue glow and the campfire's dying shine.

Somehow, he had made it through six more songs. Luche had always prided himself on his nigh impenetrable composure but he had to admit that tonight had been trying. Something had been buzzing underneath his skin all night long, deeply distracting and very confusing to him. It had taken a considerable amount of self-control to not let on that this - whatever this was - on top of the day's stress, grief and lingering pain had almost been enough to bring him to his knees. Somehow and despite that, he had even managed to join in on what quickly became a sing-along after that first song at one point and even enjoyed himself.

Tredd's performance had had the desired effect and the camp had buzzed with their younger comrade's appreciation for the spontaneous performance, the earlier worries still present but banished to the back of their minds for the moment and for that Luche was deeply grateful. At the very least, he wouldn't have to make his rounds to encourage crestfallen Glaives before hitting the sack himself – honestly, he liked his role as 2nd in command to Drautos and he took his responsibilities very seriously, but at times he felt like a glorified caretaker and he hated it , especially on days like this when he was barely holding it together himself.

Unbidden, his thoughts went back to a certain Glaive he had seen in an unexpected new light this evening. Uneasily, he crossed his arms in front of his chest as if to protect himself – against what? – and allowed himself to slouch a little against the solid metal he was leaning on.

Truthfully, he shouldn't be here. The vans were parked in a circle around the haven, yes, but they were not covered by the protective runes and therefore very much not safe. He couldn't see any demons in the immediate vicinity but the smell of demon miasma was lingering faintly in the cool air. Luche didn't really find it in himself to care. He needed a quiet minute to sort out his thoughts and he wouldn't get the chance in the middle of a noisy, if well-meaning, Glaives gathering so if any demons decided to turn up for a dance, they could fuck off immediately for all he cared. He scoffed. If he was honest with himself, his capacity to care had been depleted for longer than he wanted to admit.

Raising his head to the stars twinkling overhead, he heaved a sigh and wondered not for the first time if the Galahdian lore of their dead becoming stars held any truth to it. Tonight, he found himself wishing for it. The thought that their fallen comrades, friends, ...his parents and his grandmother were looking down on him, keeping watch over him...felt oddly soothing. But I guess we'll never know… Resigned, he let the thought fade and allowed his training to kick in. He had yet to take stock of his body, now that he finally had a moment to himself.

His injured shoulder still felt tender to the touch, but the chilled outer wall of the van actually felt really good on it and soothed the lingering pain. Thank the Six for small mercies. His ribs still felt decidedly sore, though, and twinged with each deep breath but the potion had helped to take the edge off. Nevertheless, the prospect of sleeping on the cold, hard ground wasn't one he was looking forward to. Maybe he could nick an additional blanket from Crowe's nest from earlier to make it more bearable. Without looking, he was sure that his ribs were still painted a nice shade of blue, too, despite Tredd performing first aid earlier. Wrinkling his brows in frustration, Luche realised that he was back at the core of his restlessness.

Tredd.

Letting his eyes fall from the stars to his feet, he scowled unhappily and dove into the mess of complicated feelings he had been suppressing for the better part of the evening. Far from the fire's warmth and hidden in the haven's shadow, he was relieved to realise that the heat he had felt earlier had died down a little, leaving only a hint of warmth behind.

Good.

He didn't exactly want to have to deal with that . Not in a camp full of his comrades. Not here, where privacy wasn't exactly easy to come by and especially not now, when he had barely recovered from their losses and the reminder of his own mortality.

Worrying his lip with his teeth, Luche finally admitted to himself that the heat pooling in his gut like molten fire earlier had most likely been arousal. Very misplaced and inappropriate at a time like this but...if he was honest with himself, he was relatively sure, and it had definitely been the redhead who had caused it. He hadn't even been aware of the apparent attraction he had for him, though. But then again, they hadn't really spent all that much time outside their jobs together even though they were on good terms, Luche realised. Maybe that was why seeing the younger man so relaxed and at ease, doing something decidedly different to what he'd usually see him do in training or on the battlefield had felt like such a sucker punch. It had been completely unexpected and caught him off-guard. Luche glowered at his boots. He felt like that explanation wasn't sufficient, but it was the only one he had at this time.

He'd have to think on what this meant for him at a later date.

The quiet snap of a twig beneath a heavy boot could barely be heard over the noise coming from the haven. If he was anyone else, he wouldn't have heard it, but he was still wound up rather tightly after the day's events and his sharply honed instincts kicked in immediately. Yanking his head up to survey his surroundings, Luche scowled – for the person slowly approaching him was none other than the subject of his thoughts.

Tredd.

Of course.

Internally, Luche groaned. Can't I just get a reprieve for a damn minute here?

"What do you want?"

That came out a little more hostile than he meant it to, the frustration with himself leaking into his voice. Immediately, he felt remorse stirring in the back of his mind. Yes, he was annoyed with him but truthfully? Tredd hadn't done anything to antagonize him deliberately. It was his own confusion that left him feeling unsettled and snappish. No reason to take it out on the other man. Tredd's left eyebrow arched at his hostile tone but he didn't stop in his advance.

Feeling oddly caged in, almost as if he was the redhead's prey, Luche pushed away from the van he had been leaning on, trying to appear calmer than he really was.

"Tredd, what are you doin-"

He didn't get to finish what he was going to say. The breath whooshed out of him as he was unceremoniously slammed back into the van, eliciting a pained hiss from him just as Tredd's hand moved to cup his face and the other one moved to almost painfully grip at his waist. Luche's survival instinct reared its head and his body dropped into a defensive stance, but his attention was quickly distracted, and he stopped short when he felt a pair of warm and slightly chapped lips crash against his own.

What the hell –

Luche froze. Tredd's tongue pushed past his lips, tasting him completely and pushing any other thought from his mind.

Six help him, Tredd was kissing him.

Flustered and overwhelmed, every clear and conscious thought escaped him and melting into the other man's embrace, Luche parted his lips, giving the redhead better access. His own hands clenched tightly in the other man's shirt. Tredd kissed him full on, open-mouthed, conveying a staggering primal desire that held a tantalising promise of more . He kissed Luche with as much fire and passion as he directed to all other facets of his life, mapping out his mouth with his tongue as if it held the secrets of the universe, waiting to be found.

Dazed by the other's closeness, the warm and delicious feeling of a tongue engaging his own, the oddly soft feeling of a calloused thumb caressing his cheek in contrast to the slight, exquisite burn of stubble on his skin…the fight went out of Luche and a tiny moan escaped him. He couldn't help but surrender unconditionally to Tredd's lips.

Loosening his death grip on the redhead's shirt, he wound his arms around Tredd's shoulders and pulled him impossibly closer into the kiss. Hungrily, Luche pushed back, engaging Tredd's tongue in a demanding sloppy battle, both men trying to pin the other down as if they were back at HQ, training for hand-to-hand combat.

Luche's world had completely narrowed down to Tredd. How long had it been since he had been touched like this and without the intent to cause harm?

He ignored the protests from his injured shoulder in favour of enjoying the moment. He didn't care that they were unprotected by the haven's softly glowing runes against the horrors of the night and the very real risk of being caught by their fellow Glaives seemed insignificant, unimportant somehow. All that counted was the heat building between them, the re-ignited spark low in his gut which was rapidly turning into smouldering embers, radiating a delicious heat through his entire body. He groaned when Tredd pressed closer and cheekily inserted his leg between Luche's providing blissful and mind-numbing pressure where he needed it the most-

Luche's grip around the redhead's neck tightened and he moaned, deep and breathless, into Tredd's mouth as he helplessly rubbed against the muscled thigh between his own.

Drunk on endorphins, Luche felt as if he was just shy of shattering into pieces, something inside him tightening deliciously, his stomach tensing with the expectation of a long fall. Except this was so much better. Swirling his tongue around Tredd's one more time, Luche broke the kiss in favour of softly panting against Tredd's parted lips, the younger man's forehead pressed against his own as they both tried to catch their breath. Tredd's thumb caressed the skin under his left eye, the callouses briefly catching on a small, already scabbed-over wound on his cheek.

"You alright?"

Tredd's other hand felt heavy and strong on his nape, his fingers alternating between softly scratching the skin and playing with the shorter hair, teasingly tugging on it from time to time. It took Luche a monumental effort to gather his thoughts enough to answer him.

"I...yes...what...Tredd?"

Oh, wow. Mentally, Luche kicked himself for sounding like a fool and so completely unlike himself. It was just a kiss. A very enjoyable kiss, yes, but nothing to lose his mind over. Get a grip, Lazarus, and try again. Ignoring the twinging of his ribs and the way he was still caged in between Tredd and the van, he cleared his throat and levelled what he hoped was a stern look at the other man who seemed entirely unconcerned by their close proximity.

"Tredd, what are you doing?"

A roguish grin graced the redhead's lips and before he could repeat his question, Tredd leaned in and pecked his lips again.

"What does it look like, Lu, hm?"

Luche narrowed his eyes and leaned slightly back although that meant he was automatically leaning into the hand still cradling his head. It allowed him to better observe Tredd's expression, hoping to glean some sort of explanation from it. Where did that nickname come from?

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Hm", Tredd chuckled. "Is that so? And here I thought I interpreted you holding my gaze from earlier right."

Ever the strategist, Luche's thoughts raced as he recognised the redhead's comment for what it was. He knew Tredd had noticed how he couldn't tear his eyes off him earlier and had actually come to the right conclusion. Deep down he felt mortified to have been found out. It gave Tredd too much power over him for his peace of mind. And yet here he was, giving him an out. If he were to deny Tredd's assumption right now... Luche's eyes sought and held the other man's gaze, boring into it and trying to find an answer to his unspoken question. The redhead returned the look, his eyes confident but soft, a hint of the same anguish he himself felt hidden in their depths. Yes. Yes, he would actually let him go if he wanted him to. But did he want that?

Annoyed with himself and uncharacteristically unsure, Luche dropped his head onto Tredd's collarbone, turning his face into the warm skin where shoulder met neck. A small, traitorous part of his brain gleefully noticed the goose bumps left behind where his breath met skin as he sighed.

"What are you doing to me, Tredd? And why? Why now?"

Six, but as unsettled as he felt, he couldn't help but press his nose a little closer to the redhead's skin. He smelled like sweat, blood, dust and ash from their battle earlier that day, the same as he probably did too, but underneath that...there was a different note, reminding him of the sharp, fresh air right before a thunderstorm and freshly mowed grass underlined with a citrusy scent reminding him of the lemon trees growing near his home back in Galahd. Ramuh have mercy, but the redhead smelled delicious. A strong arm wound itself around his waist, drawing him closer against Tredd's body in a loose embrace.

"I...saw how that Ahriman nearly got you, Lu." Luche's breath caught in his throat for a moment upon the clearly audible tightness in Tredd's voice. "I thought you were a goner for a second there and I…" Tredd stopped mid-sentence, his almost unnoticeable wavering voice throwing Luche for a loop. "You can try to hide it as much as you want but I know you're spooked and your...Lu, your control is slipping, and you know it...I need you to let go. Let it all out or it will bite you in the ass when you can least afford it."

Luche's breath hitched at that. He could feel the wall he had built around himself, around his emotions, shattering under the onslaught of the other's words and he scrambled, trying to put a lid back onto his tumultuous feelings. To no avail. To his horror, he could already feel the burning feeling of tears rising at the back of his throat, threatening to break free. The day had extracted such a heavy toll, and everyone looked to him for direction and Drautos expected him to take care of the Glaives and he couldn't do that if he fell apart and he just...it was too much . His fingers clenched in the soft, worn fabric of Tredd's shirt, hating how just a few words had managed to break his fragile control over his emotions.

"I...no...Tredd, it's none of your business. Couldn't you just leave it well alone...?"

His voice sounded pressed even to him but keeping his composure, keeping the tears at bay took all his will, leaving no room to worry about that too.

"Sorry, Lu, but you would never let go of your control and you know it." Luche hated that Tredd was right...but it didn't give him the right to just swoop in, knock him off his feet with that entirely unfair kiss and then kick his walls in when he was at his most vulnerable! He let go of the redhead's shirt and boxed the other man in the shoulder with all the frustration choking him, driving a soft "Oof" out of him.

"You asshole…"

To his growing horror, the suppressed tears were clearly audible in his voice now. Luche felt mortified.

"Let go, Lu, let it out. I'm here. I promise I won't let you fall."

The moment Tredd laid his head on top of his, drawing him deeper into his embrace, Luche lost the fight for composure and he sniffled in a last-ditch effort to swallow his tears back down. But his nose tingled and felt stuffy and his eyes burned and the earnestness in the other's voice shattered the remains of his composure. Before long, he clutched at Tredd as if he was the only thing teetering him to this world, heaving great, nearly toneless, wrecking sobs into the other's neck in a mess of snot and tears, dampening the skin and the collar of the redhead's shirt. It felt wet and gross and his face grew hot but even though he hated that he had given in, hated feeling weak and so vulnerable, he couldn't deny that Tredd had been right. Letting all the accrued anguish, stress and grief out...he felt mortified and helpless against the tide of his own emotions, but he also felt a little lighter for it. He wouldn't be able to stop now even if he wanted to but the feeling of hot tears rolling down his cheeks...it felt good in a way. Cleansing even.

He burrowed a little deeper into the other's embrace and let go of his last reservations. It was too late now anyway, he might as well let it all out. The grief of having failed to protect his four comrades, now lying cold and stiff in a van nearby, waiting to be buried was suffocating him, had been all evening. Six, the youngest had barely been 19. So young. And Luche had failed him. Failed to bring him home well and alive. The overwhelming feeling of failure was crushing. As if Titan himself had heaved the meteor onto his shoulders and walked away, leaving him to bear the world on his shoulders.

He didn't think he could endure losing another of his Glaives in this thrice damned war. Every news report about the loss of innocent lives, victims to the Empire's relentless advance already felt like a knife in his side. Losing one of his own when it was his responsibility to keep them safe...it was crippling, tearing his soul into pieces. He had sworn to himself he wouldn't lose anyone else he cared for after Galahd fell. Wouldn't allow himself to care that deeply again either. And yet. And yet. Here he was, drowning in tears and his own flood of destructive feelings in the arms of someone he had kept at arm's length just like everyone else lest he be hurt again.

The tears kept coming. For the first time since Galahd fell, Luche cried. He cried for everything and everyone he had lost. Everyone he had failed to protect. He cried for his parents and his beloved grandmother he had been forced to leave behind and he cried for his comrades, faced with so much scorn and hatred back in Insomnia even though they risked their lives everyday to protect its sheltered citizens to their last breath. He cried for the unfairness of it all. But most of all, he cried for himself, for the responsibilities which had been choking him for longer than he wanted to admit and the feeling of inadequacy weighing heavily on his shoulders, accumulated over many years of not daring to loosen the iron grip on his control lest he shatter into pieces as he did now.

When the tears finally ran out, his very soul felt drained even as the crushing grip around his lungs lessened gradually. Luche felt as if someone had hollowed him out with a blunt spoon, leaving him raw and aching and all his vulnerabilities laid bare for all to see. He didn't know how much time had passed. No one had come looking for them or at least he didn't think so, so it couldn't have been that long. To be honest, he didn't really care. He couldn't even muster the energy to begin rebuilding his protective wall against the world at the moment.

The world which came back to him with the awareness that Tredd was still slowly running his fingers through his hair in a slow, soothing rhythm. Truthfully, Luche wouldn't mind staying right where he was for a little longer. Encased in the redhead's strong arms and with his face nestled into the crook of his neck, he felt oddly...protected. As if the ugliness of the world couldn't reach him here. The warmth of Tredd's arms kept everything usually demanding his attention and the need for constant vigilance at bay. He hadn't felt this safe, protected since the last time his grandmother held him back in Galahd before the Empire came. For the last 10 years he had been the one protecting others. He hadn't been able to afford the luxury of seeking comfort. Hadn't allowed himself any comfort either. What a peculiar feeling. He would have liked to enjoy the warmth surrounding him for a while longer but Tredd began to shift around him and he knew that his time was up.

Lifting his aching head felt like a monumental effort. His face awkwardly stuck to the wet fabric and skin beneath his cheek and a headache was steadily pulsing behind his temples, courtesy to his losing control and his blocked nose, forcing him to flatly breathe through his mouth. His lips felt awfully dry and chapped when he wet them a little, and raw in places where he had bitten them, desperately trying to keep his sobs quiet. He became suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the sorry state he was in and let go of the younger man, reaching up to roughly rub his face in an effort to discard the traces of his breakdown.

He needn't have bothered.

When his eyes, puffy and red, met Tredd's, there were dried tear tracks on his cheeks, too, and a slight wet sheen was still obvious in his honey brown eyes. 'Did he...did he cry, too? Huh.' That was...oddly reassuring. It did wonders for the self-consciousness creeping in now that all the other emotions draining him of his strength had run their course. That he hadn't been the only one losing control, showing weakness was the only thing which kept him from bolting immediately. Instead, he searched Tredd's face.

"You-…" Luche cringed a little. He didn't sound like himself. At all. His voice was horribly raspy and nasal, making him sound like a crow with a cold and each word made his vocal cords itch, not unlike a sore throat felt. He scowled unhappily. A second try yielded the exact same results to his immense dissatisfaction. But he was rewarded with a lopsided but fond smile for his troubles and once again, Luche felt his cheeks grow warm. He fervently prayed that he wasn't blushing or that it was at least too dark to see if he was. That was the last thing he needed on top of this...disaster.

"Well...that should suffice for the next 10 years, don't you think?" Tredd stated with such a tangible dryness in his voice that it startled a laugh out of the blond.

"For the...yes! Definitely."

So, what if he sounded like a crow with a cold? The redhead didn't sound much better to Luche's quiet satisfaction. It was reassuring since it highlighted that Tredd hadn't just shed a tear or two out of a warped sense of sympathy but that he had shared the heartbreak in every way. No need to get his kukris in a twist over this. A hand tucking some loose strands of his hair behind his ear and then cupping his face made him look up again.

"Are you feeling better?"

There was sincerity in those honeyed depths, and a staggering amount of fondness he didn't quite know how to process and understanding. Luche swallowed heavily. He felt off-balance faced with the realisation that he wasn't the only one struggling with the trauma of his past. Obviously, at least Tredd - and probably the others, too - wasn't as okay as he let everyone else believe. Should he answer honestly? Or deflect the question? Every new concession meant another dent in his armour and it would be that much more difficult to put it back on but-

There was no reason to pretend with Tredd anymore, he supposed. Not here, not now. He had already seen him at his worst, as much as it rankled him that it had come to this in the first place. Huffing lowly, he decided to take a leap of faith and be honest.

"I...not really, no. But. I feel lighter? Somehow?"

"Good. That's good, Lu."

Six, but as terribly croaky as Tredd's voice sounded at the moment, it was a balm to his raw nerves. Luche couldn't help but to lean his face into the younger man's neck again, closing his eyes for a moment when Tredd leaned down to press their foreheads together again, quietly soaking the feeling of closeness to another human being, the warmth, up like a sponge. It reminded him that he was only human too. Who would have thought the intense, loud and fierce Tredd could be so...supportive? He would never voice it aloud but. It felt so good. His own hands itched at his sides, wanting to inch closer to something they could hold on to. Yes, he felt better. Letting go had actually helped quite a bit, he found. But he felt...unbalanced. Unsettled. And perhaps most peculiar of all, craving more human warmth…? If he could, he was sure that he would try and crawl into the other man's skin, the contact and the warmth of his embrace felt so good.

'Right. One painful breakdown and one unexpected discovery are quite enough for one day. That particular realisation can wait.'

Trying to pull himself together, Luche cupped the back of Tredd's neck in turn and squeezed reassuringly, partly in gratitude for the emotional support without questions and partly to convey that he had seen and acknowledged the other man's own trauma.

"Sorry for crying all over you and...thank you."

"Likewise. And don't mention it."

As expected, Tredd didn't want to talk about it anymore than Luche did but he did lean in unexpectedly and before the blond could react, he claimed his lips in a short kiss. There was nothing sensual in it this time, though. It tasted salty from their tears earlier, but it was slow and soft and conveyed a sense of...warmth, spreading through his body and comforting in a way words could never be. He found he didn't mind this second kiss at all - not that he had minded the first but that one was better left to be pondered in the safety of his home. He leaned into it, sliding his arms around Tredd's shoulders loosely. It felt nice. Reassuring.

It was a curious feeling but when they broke apart, Luche actually felt a little more settled in his skin, a little more grounded. He briefly squeezed Tredd's biceps and reluctantly let go. He cleared his throat.

"Come on, we should get some sleep while we can."

Luche didn't wait for a response, instead he turned and began the short climb up the haven, secure in the knowledge that Tredd would follow him. He had no idea what to think of the events of the last hour or two but both his body and mind were screaming for some rest now, already feeling sluggish and heavy with sleepiness and the mental and physical exhaustion of the day, so he decided that pondering what he decided to call 'the Tredd situation' for now could wait for a while. A glance at the redhead walking at his side confirmed that decision. He wouldn't push him to find out whatever this was. They had time.

"There you two are."

A warm voice startled him out of his thoughts. Nyx. Had he been waiting for them? With no small surprise Luche realised that they had already reached their allotted place for the night. Huh. They must have stepped around the other Glaives, many of which were already curled up in their own sleeping bags and fast asleep, without conscious thought. Risking a glance at Tredd next to him confirmed that he too seemed vaguely out of it although it would only be noticeable for someone who didn't know him well. Movement at the edge of his vision let him turn his attention back to Nyx. The other man stepped closer to them both.

"Go on, get some shuteye." The Galahdian announced with a lopsided grin, "I'm taking your watch."

For a moment, Luche just looked at Nyx uncomprehendingly.

"Wha...why?"

Sometimes, he really didn't understand the older man. But his sense of duty chose that moment to kick in again. He glanced longingly at his bedroll, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his blanket, but he mustered what little energy the day hadn't drained out of him yet all the same. He didn't get the chance to disabuse Nyx of his idea, though.

"Don't even think about it, Luche. You're this close to tipping over and so are you, Tredd. Your injuries are still bothering you, too. It's obvious in how you hold yourself. Let me do my part to help."

Nyx alternated looking beseechingly at them both. Luche wanted to argue. He really did. He didn't need the other Galahdian to coddle him. His earlier breakdown had left him with the urge to somehow reassert himself, his authority really, in an attempt to feel back in control and he guessed that Tredd felt much the same. But Nyx' gaze was so sincere and genuine, and he really did feel ready to fall asleep where he was standing that the fight just went out of him and he sighed. It was Tredd who answered for them both before Luche could form the words.

"Fine. We owe you one, Nyx. Thank you."

The other man waved the redhead off, his eyes crinkling in what was obviously the satisfaction of getting his way. Luche rolled his eyes. That was so typically Nyx.

"Nah, don't mention it. Now shoo, off to bed with ya both. Enough emotions for the day, you need a break."

Nyx clasped Tredd's shoulder in a reassuring grip and ruffled the blond's already tousled hair gently with his free hand in an uncharacteristic show of affection before he wandered off in the direction of the haven's edge where Libertus had already settled down for his watch with a careless "Sleep well" tossed over his shoulder..

Luche shared a look with Tredd, uncertainty palpable in their eyes. That had almost sounded as if Nyx knew what had taken place between them earlier. But surely not…? Luche swallowed.

"Do you think…?"

Tredd shrugged tiredly and huffed a quiet laugh.

"Maybe. But I really don't care right now. I need sleep. So do you, Lu."

The exhaustion was heavy in Tredd's voice and Luche felt himself soften a little. Maybe the other man was right. Discussing what had or had not happened this very moment didn't hold merit and he really was dead on his feet. On impulse, he reached out for Tredd and gently swiped his thumb under the other man's tired eyes; as much a gesture of agreement as it was meant to convey his affirmation that things had changed between them and that while he felt deeply unsure about it, he was also willing to see where it would lead them.

He was rewarded with a small but genuine smile before Tredd uttered a soft "Let's go to bed." He didn't need to be told twice. He barely managed to lie down and pull the blanket over himself before his exhaustion caught up with him. He was asleep before his head hit his pillow, trusting Nyx and the others on watch to keep them safe during the night and oddly comforted by the knowledge that Tredd was just an arm's length away, too.

Maybe he didn't have to shoulder everything himself. He wasn't alone anymore.

*** INSOMNIA, TWO DAYS LATER ***

King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII raised his head expectantly.

Heavy steps in sturdy military boots echoing in the hallway outside his private office gave him away even before Clarus Amicitia, sworn Shield to the King, pushed the doors open and stormed in in a swirl of his fancy council robes.

Already startled by the vehemence with which his oldest friend had barged in, the old guitar he was holding of all things only added to the confusion. Regis would have expected him to be waving a pile of paperwork or a draft bill he didn't agree with. But a guitar? He didn't even get a chance to ask about it before the proverbial thunderstorm brewing in Clarus' eyes broke loose.

"Regis, what the fuck?! How often have I told you not to use the Armiger to store whatever takes your fancy in it? It's growing cluttered!"

The King's eyebrows climbed steadily higher during the short tirade directed at him and he stood up to close the door because Bahamut knew that Clarus possessed a very loud and carrying voice.

"Clarus, I don't recognise the guitar. Did you pull it out of the Armiger? I swear on the Six that this one isn't mine."

Clarus' right eye twitched and Regis realised he had made a mistake at once.

"... this one? What do you mean, this one ?"

Regis winced. Considering that he had been ruling Lucis for decades and went toe to toe with his often difficult and most definitely power-hungry council on a weekly basis, one should think that he was practiced at choosing his words more carefully. But for some reason, his 'superpower to talk himself out of any given situation by spewing enough bullshit to confuse his adversary' as Cid had once dubbed it regularly failed him with both Clarus and Cor. Knowing that the game was up and that his best friend and Shield expected an answer, Regis adopted a pleasant expression and smiled at his Shield.

"Well, you see…"

Several stories beneath their feet, down on the Glaive HQ's training grounds, Tredd Furia sneezed mid-air and missed his next warp.


End file.
